Best of High School
by chidoriamane
Summary: Arthur reminisces his high school life in the States. He thinks that nothing can possibly replace all those memories he had shared with Alfred. All the smiles, all the teasing, and all the love a teenager experience, he had gone through them with his favorite American. Gakuen AU


Best of High School

Chi

Part I | Arthur's Sophomore Year

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_**It all started with a bump, shoulders brushing accidentally.**_

"Oops, sorry dude!" yelled the retreating teen in a hurry. Probably late for his class, Arthur thought.

"That's Alfred F. Jones," quipped Francis. When the Briton looked at him indifferently, he shrugged. "He's Matthew's cousin." This got his smaller friend's attention. "So…"

Arthur chuckled, getting the implication immediately. He knew that the French frog was pinning for the Canadian freshman. "Whatever, frog."

Francis sighed. For once he wished that his bestfriend/rival could at least show more emotion aside from his grumpy-uncaring default personality.

_**He could sing, but he couldn't dance.**_

Gilbert's party was as loud and crowded as ever. The host was busy dancing with few female students. Francis and Antonio were currently flirting with their not-so-secret crushes. Matthew looked like he was drowning with frog's attention. Arthur debated whether he should interrupt them. Maybe later after this, he thought as he took a swig of his rum. Now that's a good stuff.

A cheering got hold of his attention. Many unfamiliar faces shouted, cat-called Alfred Fucking Jones – Arthur believed the F in the American's name meant Fucking, what with the way he swayed those hips, grinding at some bitch's voluptuous skimpily-clad body.

Intoxicated, Arthur stared, appreciating the nice, sturdy, and definitely flexible body of the freshman. He could tell that the brat was enjoying the attention, clearly basking on it as he buck those hips in a rather seductive manner. The British student turned his flushed face away from the show, gulping down the bottle. He squirmed on his seat, suddenly feeling hot and bothered. He muttered some curses before he stood up, he needed fresh air to clear his R-rated thoughts about a certain American.

"Hey Arthur!" called an obnoxious voice he knew too well – Gilbert. Arthur mentally groaned. He turned his attention to his friend, one large eyebrow raised inquisitively. "Dance, man! You've been brooding alone like some old man."

Arthur punched the albino. But he must be more smashed than he realized as his punch had come stronger than he intended to. He only smirked after hearing the albino groaned. "I can't dance, you twat."

"Oh right." Gilbert seemed to genuinely forget about that. "Well why don't you sing then?"

Arthur would blame everything that happened right after that moment to alcohol and the self-proclaimed Prussian. Oh and Francis.

The Briton had discarded his black-fitted shirt after finishing the first song, beads of sweat trickled the side of his face and his bare chest. Arthur felt epic right now. The crowd was cheering him on and when the music started, he flashed them a confident smirk. His head swayed and bobbed in tune with the intro, the attentive audience below mimicked him enthusiastically. He grabbed the microphone and he began, his voice purring like a seductive growl. "When this began, I had nothing to say. And I'd get lost in the nothingness inside of me."

"I was confused," the people chorused.

"And I'd let it all out to find that I'm not the only person with these things in mind," Arthur sang, completely lost in his own world. And he sang more. Everyone was singing along with him when they finally reached the last stanza. But their voices didn't reach his alcohol-induced mind. "I wanna heal. I wanna feel like I'm somewhere I belong. I wanna heal. I wanna feel like I'm somewhere I belong." He paused, and looked briefly at the crowd. His eyes locked on a pair of blue ones before abruptly closing them as he roared the final words. "Somewhere I belong."

_**It was a week after the party that Arthur and Alfred were properly introduced, care-of one particular French bastard.**_

Loud, full of himself, and touchy-feely. Those were Arthur's first impression of Alfred Franklin Jones. (He was so sure it was Fucking that he was slightly disappointed to find otherwise.)

Loud. His voice was booming and attention-grabbing to the point of annoying. He was a talking-nonstop machine. Arthur felt his ears were violated by his incessant bubbling.

Full of himself. The American loved talking about himself. In that one afternoon during lunch, Arthur firmly believed he could make a ten-page biography of the git. Alfred also wasn't keen on being corrected or told off. He simply wouldn't back down from an argument, no matter how trivial it was. And the Briton found himself snapping on the freshman in more than one occasion during the duration of his usually peaceful meal. (Francis, the sodding frog, only watched with amusement the entire ordeal.)

Touchy-feely. Thrice the American had _accidentally _brushed their hands. Four times did Arthur feel their legs touched. Once did Alfred stroke the corner of his lower lip to remove a crumb of his sandwich. And more than five times did he try to hug his shoulder. Arthur had glared at him but the git didn't get the message that he wasn't comfortable with the body contact.

Arthur wasn't pleased as he broodingly ate his unappetizing lunch. He would later admit to himself that Alfred was a rather charming, gorgeous hunk of a man.

_**He was a man of literature, not science. Or mathematic**_s_**.**_

The Briton vaguely listened to _We are Young_ by Fun as he reread _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_; math homework completely forgotten on the wooden table inside the library. Arthur was so lost in the world of wizards and Hogwarts that he didn't even notice someone had sat beside him and grabbed the unanswered assignment.

A poking on his cheek had finally seized Arthur's attention. He irritably tore of his eyes from the book to glare at the annoyance – Alfred. He removed his left earphone; he could only spare one ear to the git. "What is your bloody problem?" he hissed, not bothering to hide the impatience in those green orbs.

"But Artie, you haven't done your homework yet."

Arthur gaped at him. "What are you, my mom? And my name is not Artie. It's Arthur. Get that to your thick skull, you twat." he spat.

The freshman frowned and pouted. "No, but I can help you with this!" said Alfred as he held up the paper, completely ignoring the older teen's complain regarding the peculiar nickname.

The British student snorted, snatching _his _homework from Alfred's clutch. "No, thank you. In case you didn't notice, I'm a year higher than you."

"I'm smart!" Alfred proudly announced, to which Arthur rolled his eyes. _Yeah right. _As if reading his sarcastic remark in his mind, the freshman stole the paper and, without missing a beat, he started answering the first problem.

"Git, what are you doing?" Arthur snapped but he was completely ignored. The green-eyed teen glared daggers to no avail. Alfred was too focused with the task at hand.

Not even five minutes passed, Alfred had already solved number one in his homework. "There!" He roughly shoved the now slightly battered paper on the Briton's hand. Arthur looked at him uneasily before scanning the readable scribbles on the white paper. It seemed correct. Oh god, Arthur honestly didn't know. Math wasn't his best subject. He could tolerate science ('cause it's mainly memorization, he reasoned) but math? Blimey.

He schooled his expression. "Okay," began Arthur, "so you got it right. But that doesn't prove anything. Now if you're done pestering me, leave me the fu-" Alfred looked constipated. That or he was trying too hard not to burst out laughing. Arthur colored in embarrassment and irritation. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Alfred snickered for a few seconds before answering, "You." He coughed and explained when the British student glared at him. "The final answer is correct but I deliberately left an error there that any teacher or _studying _student would easily find out."

Arthur cursed himself for getting tricked by the git. "You see this formula? There should be a negative sign before b." The formula did look familiar, vaguely. "It's called the quadratic equation." He gulped and looked away, he couldn't remember. "Artie, how did you even pass your first year Math? This is basic."

The Briton huffed. "My seatmate."

"What? Then how about now?"

Arthur knew he shouldn't smirk, but he couldn't help it. He looked at Alfred straight on . "Same seatmate."

Alfred stared at him deadpan. "No." he said firmly. "From now on I'm going to help you with Math." Before he could voice out his protest, the American threatened to sell him to his teacher.

"I hate you," bit out Arthur as he removed his other earphone then paused the playing song in the phone. He hid the book inside his bag and picked up his pen. He'd humor the twat for now.

After two hours of drilling math in his head via Alfred's Spartan teaching, Arthur felt enlightened. In that short span he had understood more, learned more, than what his teacher tried to explain every fucking day. And so when Alfred asked him to be treated to burgers, Arthur complied without much of a fuss. Saved for the time when the freshman was stuffing himself with the unhealthy food.

The next day he wasn't surprised to see Alfred taking the seat beside him in the library. He looked jovial as ever. And Arthur couldn't stop the small smile forming on his face.

_**Arthur wasn't virgin but he admitted to himself that this was his first time falling in love. With a man.**_

They planned their Spring break in one of Alfred's villa which was located along the shoreline. Arthur watched his friends swam around, goofing off, and having fun as he was buried under the sand, courtesy of Gilbert and Francis. That night he was leafing through an ero-magazine while listening to _Untitled_ by Simple Plan when he was rudely interrupted by Alfred. He took hold one of the earphone and listened a few seconds, casually leaning beside him on the couch. His blue eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh awesome song you're listening to, Artie."

By now Arthur had grown accustomed to Alfred's nickname for him. Not only that, he also accepted the fact that the insufferable git _loved _Arthur's attention. He had no clue why but he didn't find it repulsive. It was quite endearing actually, he thought. Except when he whined and sulked if he didn't get what he wanted, Arthur mentally added.

"You like big boobs?" asked Alfred, he sounded a little miffed.

"You don't?" shot back Arthur. The American didn't respond. He was brooding, the Briton could tell even without looking at his handsome face. He sighed inwardly. The music changed to _Radioactive_ when he turned to the next page. A naked brunette with H-cup greeted him and he gulped unconsciously, his green eyes glued to the magnificent curve of those supple breasts.

"You're drooling," said an irritated Alfred.

"Huh?" was Arthur's smart reply. It took him great effort to tear his eyes away from the magazine to look at the younger teen.

"Get a room, lovebirds," taunted a slightly tipsy Gilbert. Arthur and Alfred flushed, putting a good distance between them. They denied the statement vehemently, simultaneously proclaiming they're straight, then they both stared at opposite direction.

The albino rolled his eyes. These two were so obvious, he thought. Their other close friends followed him into the room. They quickly settled themselves on the sofa and the carpeted floor. "Anyone wanna play Truth or Dare?" Antonio suggested, waving enthusiastically an empty bottle.

Some responded with a "sure"; others shrugged noncommittally. Arthur said, "Pass." He stood up and walked towards the veranda, not giving a shit to their booing. He needed fresh air to cool his warm cheeks and calm his erratic heartbeat. He sat on a reclining chair, adjusted the volume of his phone to maximum level, and went back to his big chugs.

It was half-an hour later that he found Alfred, half-lidded and flushed, towering over him. He suddenly grabbed the mag and tossed it carelessly behind him. Arthur furrowed his large eyebrows, clearly displeased. He removed his earphones, ready to give the American an earful; however, before he could even utter one word, he was promptly stopped by Alfred's lips on his own.

Arthur gasped on the kiss, dimly registering the catcalls emerging inside the house. He tried pushing Alfred away to no avail. Drunk or not, the git was damn strong. So here the Briton found himself helpless as the taller teen held him at the back of his head, kissing him senselessly. They briefly pulled apart for air but not sooner did Alfred attack again, his tongue plunge inside Arthur' mouth – savagely, almost possessively and desperately tasting him.

"Mmhnn," moaned Arthur. He slowly snaked his arms around the other blonde's neck, bringing him down closer. Alfred groaned in approval. Throwing caution to the wind, Arthur kissed back fervently. He felt warm hands caressed the side of his body; they traveled downward and…

"Ahn!" gasped Arthur. Alfred had cupped his ass. Feeling bold and alive, the Brit snaked his leg on Alfred's hip. He grinded their clothed crotch and sparks exploded inside them. _Oh god! This is so good. _They both moaned in their half-aroused state.

They broke off the kiss, both were panting for breath. Alfred wobbled on his feet and he smiled drunkenly; his blue eyes stared unfocusedly. "That was amazing," slurred Alfred before passing out on Arthur's shoulder.

The sophomore caught the heavy body before it slid off on the ground. He wasn't sure what happened. Did he and Alfred just make out in the open? _Bollocks. _He settled the other blonde on the chair. He needed a drink. _Fuck! I need to get pissed drunk!_

He glared at the snickering audience before entering the cozy room, cans and bottles of alcohol laid messily on the floor and table. "Forget what you saw or I swear I'll make your life damn miserable for the next bloody ten years," threatened Arthur as he grabbed the nearest bottle he could get. He drunk the whole thing and sighed. "I believe you guys are playing Truth or Dare or some rubbish?"

The next morning Arthur had a terrible headache and a black eye. "Bloody hell! Who the fuck punched me in the eye?" he moaned. There's something at the back of his mind that told him he should be remembering an important event. But his throbbing head couldn't think straight for the life of him. _Forget it, _he decided. He needed to punish the fucker who dared to hit him.

"Francis did," answered Antonio while gently nuzzling the older of the two Italians in the room. "You broke his phone into pieces."

Arthur blinked, trying to shake off the bleariness. "Oh," he mumbled. This hangover fucking sucked, he thought. He half-heartedly vowed to never getting drunk again.

_**Arthur had never been good at dealing with the matters of the heart. More so when he's jealous.**_

He spotted him and some chick he didn't recognize. They were embracing in a manner that conveyed a message – they were going out. Arthur stilled and gritted his teeth. He swiftly turned back, bumping the frog in the process.

"Mon dieu! What's the matter with you, mon ami?" asked Francis as he walked beside the Briton who ignored him. "Is it about Alfred's girlfriend?"

Arthur abruptly stopped, face darkening into a full-blown blush. "What are you talking about?" he stammered.

A Cheshire grin appeared on the frog's face and Arthur never liked that expression. "Her name is Ella Brown, freshman. Smart, funny, talented with violin, rich, and beautiful."

"The perfect girl," said Arthur dryly.

"Aren't they a lovely couple?" taunted Francis.

A strained smile appeared on the male student. "Lovely," he said sarcastically before he continued to walk. He collided with a soft body and muttered his half-ass apology, helping the other student to pick up the fallen books. Then he noticed her cleavage. Arthur stared. She was at least D-cup.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. He helped her stood up.

He gave her one of his charming smile reserved for girls he usually flirted with. "No, I should be the one to apologize, Miss…?"

The female student was flustered. "Ana Bergh," mumbled the brunette.

"Miss Ana," Arthur enunciated, liking how the name rolled in his tongue. He grinned at her, green eyes crinkling. "I'm Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

"I know," she stuttered. Two large eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I saw you before in one of Gilbert's party. You're a great singer."

Arthur flushed at the genuine praise. It always felt good when someone told him how good he sang. So he thanked her. "If you don't mind, do you want to hang out after school?" He didn't know what prompted him to say those words. Ana said yes, her voice sounded higher than the usual low, shy mumbling. Arthur didn't have the heart to take back his words. So he faked a smile. "Great." They exchanged numbers and then she left.

He knew Francis was looking at him incredulously. He wouldn't indulge him today. "You're childish," chided his friend. "It's awful to lead her on, you know."

Arthur sighed tiredly as he carded his messy blonde locks. "Just shut up, frog."

After last period he quickly drove to the flat he shared with Francis, not bothering to text Alfred about the change in plan. He convinced himself that the git had probably intended something with his girlfriend. And that he shouldn't interfere or anything. Maybe it's about time they stop their rendezvous in the library. It didn't sit well for him that a younger student was tutoring him. But he wouldn't do that. He liked spending time with the American. He liked it when Alfred would guide his hand to write a complex formula, when he would lean oh so very close to explain a rigorous method, when he would clap his shoulder if he got the correct answer. He _fucking _loved the other male that there's no way he'd separate himself from him. Today was an exception. Because he felt jealous and down. He needed distraction and Ana was a pure coincidence.

Guilt gnawed him as he picked up Ana from her two-storey house. She was dressed nicely and he complimented her like a 'true' gentleman that he was. He found out that they shared the same interests – music, authors and books, subjects, tea over coffee. He couldn't find one single thing to dislike about her. And that frustrated Arthur.

It was nearing ten in the evening when he deposited her in front of her residence. "I had a good time," she spoke so sweetly. She hesitated before slowly, shyly pecking him on the lips. Arthur sat there, stunned and rigid. He shouldn't lead her on. Tomorrow, he decided, I would straight things out.

The next day an upset Alfred had cornered him in front of his locker. "Where were you, dude? I waited for like an hour. You stood me up!"

Arthur bit his lip and appeared to be apologetic. "My bad. I forgot to inform you that-"

"Arthur!" Ana greeted him, slightly pecking him on his left cheek. "Thanks again about last night. Maybe we should go for another date some time," suggested the smiling girl.

The Briton coughed in his hand. "Oh yes, of course," replied Arthur, grinning a little. He looked at Alfred, then to Ana. "I will text you, I promise."

Ana blinked, then stared at Alfred who glared at her. She seemed to be taken aback. "Ok then, bye!"

Arthur couldn't look at Alfred in the eyes. He pretended to arrange the stuff in his locker. "I am really sorry about yesterday. I was occupied with other things."

He heard him mumble something. But he wasn't able to question him further when the bell rang for first period. Alfred left without so much as a bye. Arthur sighed dejectedly. He knew he should have at least texted him. It's a common courtesy after all. But he was not himself yesterday, he refuted lamely.

During lunch he was dragged away by Ana. She had baked him scones. While the gesture touched him, Arthur felt creeped out with the sudden clinginess and possessiveness of the lass. He glumly tasted the food, disappointed that Alfred had not shown up in the cafeteria.

When he was finally in the library, he ignored Ana's texts. He shuffled with his playlist and settled with _What Goes Around _by Justin Timberlake. He was quietly singing along when Alfred sat beside him.

The atmosphere was tense. Arthur stopped singing and debated with himself if he should pause the song. There's a movement on his right and he watched as the American removed his earphone and placed it in his own earlobe. Alfred chuckled albeit humorlessly. "Are you and that girl dating?" he asked, voice devoid of emotion.

Arthur frowned. Shouldn't _he _be the one asking that? "No," he answered. After a long pause, he asked as casually as he could, "Aren't you the one who recently hooked up?"

"We broke up today," replied Alfred as he returned the earphone to him.

"Oh." He hoped he sounded not too happy but rather sympathetic enough. He looked at his phone when it vibrated. He received another text from Ana, asking where he was. It's about time to be honest with her, Arthur thought. He began typing his last reply to her.

The freshman looked at him irritably. "Who are you texting?" asked Alfred, not bothering to cover the disdain in his voice. But Arthur knew that it wasn't directed at him and the thought put a smile on his face.

He finally looked at Alfred – young and handsome Alfred who craved his attention. "No-one important." He pressed 'Send'.

_Please don't bother me again._

_-Arthur Kirkland_

_**Distance makes the heart grow fonder.**_

Arthur terribly missed Alfred. He had not seen the American for a week after the end of the school year. He couldn't blame anyone but the distance between them – the Atlantic Ocean. He had returned to England as per his father's order and his mother's musing. While he was sincerely happy to see his family again, he was saddened at the notion that he wouldn't get to hang out with Alfred for roughly three months.

Sure they texted each other daily. The topic mainly focused on what they're doing.

_My asshole brother deleted all the songs in my phone._

**Ouch. Y'd he do dat? *hugs u***

_He thought it was a great idea for a prank. The stupid wanker. So I trashed his car._

**LOL dat's my Artie alryt! XDD 'm so proud of u!**

_Heh. I got grounded for a week though._

**Dat sux X.X**

Sometimes the other blonde would call him, talking about trivial stuff like the new Star Trek movie he watched with some friends

"Dude, you should watch it! It's so awesome!" said an excited American over the phone.

Arthur's lips quirked upward. "Maybe. I'm still grounded in case you have forgotten, git."

There's a brief pause. "Oh, you're right. By the way, you're gonna be third year on September, right?"

"Yes. And you will be a sophomore the next time we meet," replied the Briton.

Alfred had also insisted they talk via skype but he refused. The idea was too intimate. And Arthur didn't trust himself to behave once he had a glimpse of the younger teen. He would feel more love sick.

So days turned to week; weeks turned to months. Arthur had never felt so eager for the first day of school to come. His mind conjured some love-struck scenario in which he would envelop the American in a warm embrace; he would run his fingers over his smiling face; he would stare lovingly; and he would whisper _lovingly _that he truly missed him.

Arthur shook his head, brushing away the romantic thought. He could never muster the courage to initiate such contact. Alfred touching him was one thing. But him – Arthur Kirkland – touching Alfred? He could only manage a pat on the back or a playful punch on the arm.

He tightened the grip on his sling bag, willing his nervousness away, as he walked along the crowded hallway filled with noisy students. But before he could take another step, somebody had thrown himself on him, enveloping himself in a bone-crushing hug. "Oh shit," he muttered, feeling irritated at getting caught of guard. "Get off me!"

The arms around him only loosened a little. "I miss you too, Artie!" beamed Alfred.

"A-Alfred?" spluttered Arthur, immediately blushing.

Alfred smiled at him happily and handsomely. Arthur wished that twat couldn't feel his heartbeat. "The one and only." He released him after a few moments and the British student was slightly disappointed at the lost of contact. Now that he took a closer like at him, Arthur realized that Alfred had grown another few inches. The baby fats on his face had also vanished. And when he hugged him before, he could feel the well-defined muscles in those arms. Alfred had become manlier and more handsome.

Arthur flashed him a genuine smile, green eyes briefly shining with barely concealed affection. "Good to see you too, lad."

Part I End

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Author's Note

This is late but I do NOT own Hetalia nor the songs I mentioned in this fanfic.

In case you don't know, the title of song Arthur sang in Gilbert's part is _Somewhere I belong _by Linkin Park. I have incorporated some songs that I really like here. Mostly due to the fact that I was listening to music while making this. It took me maybe 4-5 days to make this fanfic and without a doubt, I had fun while doing so. I simply love USUK. (In case you have some songs you want to be included, feel free to pm or put it in your review. Speaking of which, please tell me about my choice of song titles. I was tempted the whole time to throw in some J-pop, J-rock, and K-pop songs BUT the story is told in Arthur's POV. idek anymore oTL)

I am not too sure when to update. Maybe next week. I have to search about school life in USA. For one, my high school was VERY different (I entered high school when I was only 12 and graduated 4 years after). I didn't get to experience junior and senior prom 'cause of our Principal. Grr... (And prom in Philippines is usually schedule around Valentine's Day.) We didn't have foreign language elective/subject (but we are thought of English language since, I don't know, birth? lol)

In connection with the previous paragraph, it would help me if you guys suggest some major events that usually occur in high school (in USA, particularly). You might want to include the date or month when they are held (_this is very important_). Or anything exciting that may have happened in your high school life. (In case you don't realize, my high school was _boring_. You could deem me as nerd or the like. I was a happy-go-lucky class President and the teachers' pet. ugh)

This note is seriously getting long so I'll cut it short here. Reviews and your opinions are highly appreciated and welcomed. Thank you for reading up to this point.

-Chi

P.S.

I might make a Best of Highschool rendition based on Alfred's POV.


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